


The Fault in Our Injuries

by rboudreau



Series: The Fault [9]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 5x10 spoilers, Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 02:18:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3632970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rboudreau/pseuds/rboudreau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate ending to 5x10. Mickey and Ian clean up before their first date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fault in Our Injuries

**Author's Note:**

> So I am finally back from hiatus! It's been a while since I've written these boys, so I wrote a short little thing to get me going again.

"We've never actually been on a real date."

"Bullshit!" Mickey exclaimed. 

Ian powered on. "No, I'm serious. Like, like a date where you sit down and you go to a nice restaurant and you put on a nice shirt, and you like eat with utensils."

"You wanna do that?" Mickey asked in disbelief.

"Yea," he confirmed. "Why not?"

"What, like a Sizzlers?"

Ian shrugged. "Sure."

Mickey waited a second. "You mean _now_?"

" _Now_ , before I sober up and get all fucking weird again, come on." He put his arm around Mickey's shoulder as Mickey laughed.

"Alright, can I borrow a fucking shirt, then, please?" he laughed, gesturing towards his dirt and blood covered shirt.

Ian smiled, hooking his arm around Mickey's neck and leading him up the stairs to the house. "Yea you can borrow a shirt."

"Good."

They walked up the stairs, returning to their rendition of Love Is A Battlefield and opening the door to go inside, Mickey laughing at Ian's drunken hollering.

When they got inside, the house was dark and quiet. Ian called out to see if anyone was home, but no one responded. He and Mickey shuffled up the stairs to the bedroom, peeling off their bloody clothes and tossing them into the hamper.

Ian watched Mickey searching through Ian's clothes for a shirt to wear and grinned. "We're going on a date."

Mickey chuckled. "Fuck yes we are. I'm gonna get a steak so rare, it's gonna scream when I bite it." He mooed to emphasize his point, and Ian laughed and joined in. 

Ian squeezed Mickey's shoulder and reached into his closet for a purple button down shirt, holding it out to him. "Wear this. Purple looks good on you."

Mickey took it from him and leaned up, pressing their lips together for a moment. He undid the buttons and started to put it on when Ian stopped him.

"Wait, c'mere." He tugged Mickey into the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and the bottle of water someone had put in there earlier to brush their teeth since the water was shut off.

He wet the washcloth and started cleaning the blood off Mickey's face and neck. Mickey winced, cursing as Ian rubbed hard over one of the deeper cuts on his face. Ian gave him an apologetic look, kissing the spot softly.

Even though it hurt like a bitch, Mickey knew he was looking at Ian with heart eyes, not able to stop thinking about the date they were going to go on. 

He finished up with Mickey and they switched roles, Mickey cleaning the blood off Ian's face. He hadn't gotten in as many good punches as Ian had, he noted begrudgingly, but even when Mickey was pissed at Ian, he never wanted to hurt him too bad. Cleaning up Ian went a lot faster than Mickey's had, and once they were done they finally returned to the bedroom to get changed. 

Mickey was just buttoning up the last button on his shirt when Ian tugged him closer, his non-burned had cupping Mickey's face. He examined Mickey's face guiltily.

"I'm sorry," he said, his thumb brushing against one of Mickey's cuts.

Mickey raised his eyebrow at him. “The fuck for?”

Ian leaned their foreheads together, carefully avoiding the cut above Mickey’s eyebrow. “This,” he mumbled, lightly thumbing over Mickey’s cut again. “All of this….I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to--”

“Stop,” Mickey said, cutting him off. He clung tightly to Ian’s waist. “I’m not going anywhere. So you can quit with the ‘you can leave if you want’ bullshit, alright?”

“Mick, I beat the shit out of you. And the shit I said…”

Mickey sighed, reaching up to run his hand through Ian’s hair. “It’s been a rough few days. It’s not like I expected you to be up and running and smiling right away. It’s fine.” Ian started to protest, but Mickey shook his head at him. “Ian. I’ll take a few punches every once and a while if that’s what makes you feel better. You didn’t ask for any of this.”

“Neither did you.”

Mickey shrugged. “So then why should I get to walk away if you can’t?” He kissed Ian, cutting off whatever he had started to say. He gave Ian a smile as he pulled away, stroking his cheek softly. “I don’t want to go anywhere, alright? If you’re in this, I’m in this. We’re a team. We’re partners. We’re fucking _family_. Okay? You’re stuck with me, man.”

Despite the fact that he’d almost completely sobered up by now, Ian found himself smiling, and he wasn’t really sure how Mickey did it, but he was grateful. He nodded, his hair flopping into his face. For a moment, everything was perfect. There was no bipolar disorder, there were no cuts and scars, and there was no trouble lurking around the corner. It was just two boys who loved each other more than they could say and who always had each other’s backs.

Mickey looped an arm around Ian’s waist, turning him to lead him out of the bedroom. “Now c’mon. Time for our _date_ ,” he emphasized, the word sounding strange but pleasant on his tongue. “There’s a couple of steaks with our names on it.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I appreciate any and all comments/kudos/critique you are willing to give me. Thanks for taking the time to read this!
> 
> If you want to chat, you can find me on tumblr at [ be-your-own-anchor5](http://www.be-your-own-anchor5.tumblr.com)


End file.
